


A Question of Character

by LunarLilac



Category: Henry Stickmin Series (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Cleaned 'em Out Ending | CEO (Henry Stickmin), How Do I Tag, Other, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:21:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27867561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunarLilac/pseuds/LunarLilac
Summary: After assisting the government in taking down most of the Toppat Clan, it would seem like Henry's given up his criminal ways, right?No, not even close.AKA Henry has a case of chronic backstabbing disorder and hypocrisy and other people suffer for it.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38





	A Question of Character

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I wrote this out, start to finish, in about two hours (which is very fast for me), after thinking about the implications of the Cleaned 'em Out ending for Henry's character. Hopefully it still makes sense - enjoy!

Henry knows exactly who he is and exactly what he wants.

From the moment he laid his eyes on that diamond, he wanted it all. Anything and everything he could get his hands on. 

He pulled off the diamond heist and dozens of smaller ones besides, his apartment overflowing with everything from trinkets he’d taken off desks to paintings he’d grabbed from museums. It was a new apartment, a bit nicer than the last four he’d had this year. A consequence of being on the run. 

Other people could be such a nuisance, sometimes. 

When he wakes up on a helicopter and is promised a pardon if he cooperates, he thinks "sure, why not?" It's a useful thing, for now. He could use the break that comes from being considered a lawful citizen and not needing to skip town every few weeks. The helicopter pilot talks him through what he has to do, and he plays along for the pardon.

The pilot clapped him on the shoulder with a radiant smile, congratulating him on a job well done and flapping his gums about working together again sometime. Henry musters up a toothy smile and gladly takes the offered comms device from the naïve soldier. Secret government intel? Yeah, that could come in handy. 

Then, the Wall.

Henry’s honestly, rightfully ticked that the government pardon apparently means nothing to the warden. None of his heists between the airship and his imprisonment there should have caught anyone’s attention - he’d been more careful for a reason. But, whatever. 

Other people only stood in his way, obstacles he had to get around or knock down. 

When he sees the chance to escape - if he can just get up to that hatch in the ceiling, maybe get a boost - he takes it, leaves without a second thought. The government doesn't care about him, didn't protect him from this, wouldn't come back for him.

He can't rely on anyone, never has and never will.

(The redhead helped him up to the hatch with no way of getting up herself. Her loss.)

So, the comms device ends up working out for him. It’s mostly meaningless chit chat between people he’s never met about meeting up for game nights or karaoke, the occasional field report and a couple of voicemails from that pilot. He’s this close to just throwing it in the trash when some higher-up starts talking about a train full of treasure. He’s out the door before whoever it is can finish the message. 

Henry knows exactly who he is. Who cares about anyone else, really? The world is his plaything - the people, his toys. A means to an end, nothing more. 

Somewhere, an ace pilot awaits the judgment of his superiors, berating himself for entrusting a government-issued comms device with a thief, a slump in his shoulders. Somewhere, a fiery girl sits alone in a cell, berating herself for bothering to help a con artist she'd just met, a scowl on her face. 

Here, Henry polishes a diamond-encrusted helmet before mounting it on the wall with all his other ill-gotten goods, smiling to himself, mischief in his eyes.

Yeah, he has everything he could ever need right here.

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone curious, I was listening to Emperor's New Clothes by Panic! At The Disco while I was writing this. Please let me know what you think in the comments, and have a good day :)


End file.
